


(i hate) a man like you

by songbird97



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, M/M, aka futuristic gangsters ...... basically an excuse to write haru as a hacker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 17:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10927077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songbird97/pseuds/songbird97
Summary: But, Nanase. He is soft where Rin is sharp; intense where Rin is leveled. His eyes come to Sousuke like fascination isn’t a big enough word for what he’s feeling, and it is a look that feels like it could hook around Sousuke’s very center of gravity and drag him down.AKA the (not long enough) futuristic gang AU that nobody asked for. With SouRinHaru, no less.





	(i hate) a man like you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sierra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sierra/gifts).



> For [Sierra](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sierra), on her birthday! Because she's an awesome friend, but you didn't hear that from me. ♡

There have been weirder nights in Sousuke’s life, but he can think of very few.

They’re not supposed to be here, firstly. It’s not even that it’s illegal—though it  _is_ , Sousuke just isn’t so bothered, not anymore, not at this point—but it’s that this place has to be at least ten miles out from where they’re supposed to be, from where Rin and the others demanded they land. It’s stupid that they’re here, against orders, but Nanase was driving and Sousuke isn’t so sure he cares about keeping this job, anyway.

What he does care about is Rin ripping his balls off, though; and if they don’t get where they’re supposed to be on time, Sousuke’s sure he’ll think of it as a fitting send off.

His own voice is an unfamiliar hiss when he says, “Hey. Wanna tell me what we’re doing here?”

There’s no response. Naturally. Though Nanase does spare him a glance momentarily, it falls back to the screen of his laptop—or whatever he calls his jacked-up, too-large mess of clumped wires and a holographic screen, the fucking nerd—and he keeps tapping away, too fast for Sousuke to even get a grasp on what’s flying past in luminescent blue. The light carves hard shadows into Nanase’s face, making him look angrier, meaner than usual; though it could also be chalked up to the holsters he’s got strapped up the lengths of his legs.

Sousuke grunts. " _Nanase_."

“Shut up, Yamazaki,” Nanase whispers, too calmly for Sousuke’s taste.

“We’re supposed to be three cities over, why the hell are we sitting here with our thumbs up our asses?”

“You can do whatever you like with your thumbs,” Nanase murmurs, eyebrows inching together. “I’m working.”

“Working, sure. And you couldn’t do this shit in the car?”

Nanase scowls and huffs, does every irritating thing with his cool expression Sousuke’s seen since he’s known him, looking more now like a bratty teenager than he ever has, curled up against the sheet-metal wall with his hunk of damn wires. “I’m hacking into the system here. Now will you shut up?”

It does, to his credit, get Sousuke to be quiet for a solid minute. He processes, then says, “Here.”

“Yes.”

“The system. Here.”

“Did you develop a hearing problem overnight, Yamazaki?” Nanase glances back up at him again, glasses slipping down the length of his nose. Sousuke wonders how they’ll stay up if they need to fight later on. “The security system here … it’s troublesome.”

“At an empty warehouse.”

“Less empty than you might think,” Haruka says, and he looks like he means it; and as crazy as he’s proven himself to be, he’s never been a liar thus far.

Sousuke’s feet feel a lot heavier on the ground all of a sudden, his voice a lot louder. He lowers it to say, “But Rin said—”

“Rin’s an idiot and he thinks they’ll stay in the same damn spot all night, when they know we’re after them and how to ambush properly.” Nanase’s gritting his teeth, and Sousuke amuses himself with the picture of Nanase and Rin, having a damn lovers’ quarrel over the location of a raid. “Rin and the others can hold their own in a fight, but they’re not getting anywhere intel-wise unless we deal with this place first.”

“Don’t trust our beau very much, do we,” Sousuke deadpans.

Nanase blinks. “Who do you trust more, the one who thinks he can solve everything with his fists, or the one who bothers to plan ahead?” He lifts a hand to spin something across the screen, frowns, then continues typing. “Remember. Rin might be the best leader, but there’s a reason he wanted me on his side in the first place.”

“And this plan of yours isn’t gonna get _us_ killed?”

“Scared you won’t be able to hold your own, Sousuke?”

Sousuke grits his teeth; he’s never given Nanase permission to use his first name, and he only ever does it when he’s _trying_ to get under Sousuke’s skin. He could probably predict it at this point, if he wanted to.

“I can handle myself just fine. What I’m worried about is protecting your sorry ass if you don’t finish up in time.”

Still, Nanase’s gaze doesn’t move, but one deceptively perfect eyebrow raises high enough to blend in under his bangs. “Just keep watch and keep your mouth shut,” he says. “And I’ll prove that I can finish just fine.”

Whether it’s meant as an innuendo or not is over Sousuke’s head, but it does the job either way. He sets his jaw and does as he’s told, pressing his back against the wall and watching, listening for anything past the _tap tap tap_ of Nanase’s fingers across his half-built keyboard. He always seems to win in this area—catching Sousuke off guard. And Sousuke can’t ever return the damn favor because nothing ever seems to faze him; Sousuke’s watched him nearly tear a poor guy’s arm off and watched him put a bullet through another’s head. All with the same collected expression, the same untroubled eyes.

 _Don’t make promises you can’t keep,_ Sousuke thinks, but doesn’t dare say.

Rin was easy to get used to. Sousuke would even go as far to say they’d hit it off when they’d first met—for a boss Rin thinks on his feet a little too often, relies too much on the feeling in his gut, but he’s confident and vibrant and nearly a mirror of Sousuke’s own intellect. He’s ruthless, but he’s never done anyone wrong, never given out anything more than they’ve deserved. Rin is smart when he needs to be, comes through for everyone in the end.

But, Nanase. He is soft where Rin is sharp; intense where Rin is leveled. His eyes come to Sousuke like fascination isn’t a big enough word for what he’s feeling, and it is a look that feels like it could hook around Sousuke’s very center of gravity and drag him _down_.

Rin is familiarity; he’s simple. Nanase is a whole other monster to meet.

“Almost,” Nanase says, so quietly Sousuke’s not sure whose benefit it’s for. His is the image of concentration, a furrow to his brow and his teeth pressing deep into his bottom lip. It would maybe be distracting, like Rin tends to be on a daily basis, if he weren’t so infuriating.

(But really, Sousuke can only lie to himself for so long—it is, unarguably, distracting regardless.)

Besides, if he were ever going to try anything with either of them he’d have no idea which to pick—not in terms of which would be the easiest or the hottest to get but in terms of which would draw his death out the most painfully for coming onto the other. And as _alluring_ as they both might sometimes be, by their own graces, they’re sure as hell not worth anything from his dick to his life. He’s not so deep in, yet.

(But there’s an operative word in there, somewhere.)

There’s a quiet roar of an engine that sends Sousuke’s consciousness spinning out of distracted territory and dizzily back into the moment. Next to him Nanase freezes, and Sousuke feels his own hands twitch. Then the rev slows and then there’s a telltale series of clicks and rustling that can only be sand under tires, closing in on the adjacent side of the warehouse.

Sousuke swears, under his breath. “Nanase …”

“I know,” he says, quiet but maybe sounding more distressed now. Sousuke might feel triumphant if he weren’t busy trying to count the number of bullets he’s got on him. " _Almost_."

It’s at the roof of his mouth—the threat that if Nanase doesn’t hurry his ass up, Sousuke will up and ditch him right where he sits. But something keeps him planted, keeps his mouth shut. The van is hidden down the street, where headlights won’t reflect, and Sousuke knows he’s not going back to it without him.

He gets the first of his guns in his hands and cocks it, squinting to see better around the corners of the building because it’s too fucking dark to see what’s five feet in front of him clearly. If they’re lucky, the assholes won’t go looking—but in Sousuke’s experience no one’s ever lucky in this field of work. You’re either quick, smart, or dead. No exceptions.

Footsteps and voices, chained hanging doors being yanked open. A thin sliver of light spiders around the corner and paints shadows too close to their feet. If they weren’t expecting members of Rin’s crew to be here, they’ll catch on at any second.

" _Haruka_ _—”_

“Got it,” Nanase says, his breath a rush of air punctuated by his heels on the ground. “In, downloaded, warped—they’re fucked if they plug anymore info in. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Sousuke doesn’t need to be told twice. He gets a second to watch Nanase shove his nerdy heap of metal into his backpack and bolt with it before he’s scrambling to keep quietly up with him, and they head for the line of brush they can hide from the light behind. And it’s here that Sousuke processes: “Wait, _that’s_ all we came to do?”

“Shove it,” Nanase hisses back at him.

But Sousuke can’t see how any of the risk was worth a single second of success—even though he also doesn’t know exactly what kind of information they’re after tonight. The kind that Rin thought he could get his hands on physically, anyway, and simultaneously the kind Haruka thinks he can boot up on their own system. All questions Sousuke knows he won’t get the answers to, not being as new as he is, but fuck if he’s gonna throw his life on the line without complaining about it.

In fact it’s a miracle that they get to the van without being seen or heard. So much of one that Sousuke’s unable to believe it for a few seconds, dazed enough to let Nanase climb back into the driver’s seat again, like Sousuke _trusts_ him. And Nanase must understand, too, because he releases a breath so heavily it sends his fringe flaring.

“Don’t worry,” he says, shifts the van to _drive_. “We’re going where we’re supposed to now.”

“Cross your heart?” Sousuke snaps, the irritation in his chest almost worth the fire behind the glare his gets.

“Is there anything you don’t whine about?”

“You mean besides putting my ass on the line for you to play minesweeper for half an hour?”

Sousuke can see Nanase’s teeth in the snarl he’s got pointed at the road. “You wouldn’t appreciate what I got if I hit you over the head with it. And we got out, didn’t we?”

“By the skin of our teeth,” Sousuke scoffs.

“Has it ever been any other way?” Nanase glances at him. “You’ve done a lot worse by now than crawl through some bushes. You’re _about_ to do worse when we get to Rin. Get over it.”

Sousuke has every childish urge in a single moment—to scream, to throw his hands up, to slam his head against the dashboard and stay there, if it’ll get this night to make any more sense. As far as he was told it was just supposed to be a raid, to get their hands dirty if they needed to in order to get info about a deal happening downstate. What makes the deal so important, Sousuke doesn’t know or care about; what he does care about is the need to get involved.

The drive is a silent one, and it passes quickly if only because Sousuke spends it in his head. It’s late enough that the cities they drive past are sleeping, at least mostly, the stumble of a Friday night coming to a close. It’ll be sunup for a few hours, and Sousuke wonders how many will see it.

Backpack with the jacked computer thrown in the backseat, Nanase activates the lock system as soon as the doors are shut. They’ll have to walk a bit, so Sousuke doesn’t flinch this time when Nanase tosses him a pair of night-vision specs.

Then he says, “If you’re gonna complain here, you should probably get it over with now.”

Sousuke bristles. “Have you considered fucking off, Nanase?”

“No,” Nanase says, shoving his lone gun into its holster and taking out the knife Sousuke’s grown so used to seeing him use. “Not really. Have you considered fucking?”

Twice tonight, he’s knocked Sousuke off his game. Sousuke pins his best glower in place and says, “One more crack and I swear to Christ—”

But Nanase’s cutting him off before he even has the chance, closing the distance between them in three long strides to the side of the van, muttering, “Shut up, Yamazaki.”

And Sousuke’s comprehension flickers and flares, just in time for Nanase to shove him back against the side of the car and crush their mouths together, teeth biting into his lower lip and dragging it down in a sharp tug. Sousuke follows, has no choice to, and Nanase’s tongue in his mouth is a specific he hasn’t thought about before but certainly is now, curling behind his teeth and stealing away any protest he could ever hope to think up.

He takes hold of Nanase’s hips and squeezes tight, forcing a grunt out of him that Sousuke can taste at the back of his throat—he swallows it and Nanase’s hands tug tight at his shirt, one near his chest and the other dragging the hem of it below the waistband of Sousuke’s jeans.

Three times tonight, and twice in a row. Sousuke can’t win this one, no matter how he tries.

Cool fingers dip into his briefs just enough to ghost—then they’re yanked back out and it somehow feels so much more like a promise than a tease. Nanase pulls his mouth away and stares up at Sousuke with eyes as blue as the night sky, dark and expanding. Alluring is too simple of a word.

“So you don’t entirely hate me,” Sousuke murmurs, short of breath and wonderstruck.

Nanase steps away, seems to exhale heavily through his nose. He keeps his eyes on Sousuke’s, though, making that furious sort of eye contact he loves to make so much, and jams his thumb against the little switch on his knife that sends the blade out in a spin, landing solidly against the heel of his palm.

“Who says I don’t?” he asks, then steps around Sousuke, jerks his chin at the gun in his hand, and commands, “Let’s go.”

He walks on without waiting for Sousuke, who can do nothing but follow.

It doesn’t take long. But Rin’s eyes widen and shine when they finally get there, and his hand takes Nanase’s wrist as soon as he’s close enough. “Christ, what took you two so long?”

Nanase just blinks. “Miss me, baby?”

“He nearly had a conniption,” Gou mutters, meeting Rin’s glare with an eyebrow raised high—a challenge for him to deny it.

He doesn’t. Just turns back to Nanase and matches his expression, that careless intensity he’s mastered so well. Sousuke thinks, belatedly, that watching the two of them is like watching a storm meet the sea. “Don’t do that again, alright?”

“You won’t say that when you see what I got,” Nanase says. “Are we doing this, or not?”

“We’d better be,” Rin says, then tosses a nod Sousuke’s way. “Hope you’re ready to roll some heads.”

 _Always,_ Sousuke doesn’t say.

He moves to follow, but Nanase beats him to it, stepping in front of him and tripping him up. He wants to glare, wants to be annoyed—but when he looks Nanase’s smirking, small and devastating. He drops his gaze to Sousuke’s feet and then returns them to his eyes, and breaks every rule Sousuke’s ever drawn up about him in his head when he winks.

Rin sees. It’s unavoidable, because he’s glanced back like he’d known it would happen. And Sousuke only gets to entertain the idea of Rin putting a gun to his head before he sees a grin take Rin’s face by storm, and he’s left with only one thought to precede the rest of his night:

Even if signing onto this shit wasn’t enough of a promised death in the first place, he is, undoubtedly, fucked.


End file.
